Work Text:
June 27th
Sam
It is in Lincoln, Nebraska that their luck runs out.
Three people had died recently with their tongues missing and no other obvious signs of trauma. The authorities tried to keep the deaths as quiet as possible, fearing a panic, but a hunter friend of Dad’s had called Dean about the deaths after not being able to reach Dad.
Sam isn’t shocked that Dad didn’t answer the phone when the hunter called. Although he hasn’t tried, he’s fairly sure Dad wouldn’t answer if he called. Dad is still MIA, out doing whatever, Sam’s just glad he’s still gone.
The long period of being away from Dad has been the most freeing months of Sam’s life. Especially now that he can kiss Dean whenever he wants, can do other things too. Whenever he wants, wherever he wants to. Freedom feels damn good to Sam.
Which is why he has Dean pinned against the wall in the bathroom of a bar, one hand in Dean’s hair, the other trying to work its way down the back of Dean’s jeans to get to his ass.
“We shouldn’t be doing this now,” Dean says between kisses. He’s got his hands around Sam’s waist, his fingers digging into Sam’s hip bones, keeping Sam in place despite his words. “We’re in the middle of a hunt.”
“Mmm hmm,” Sam agrees. He bites Dean’s lower lip and then kisses it all better. Dean’s pupils are blown, and his lips are sweetly swollen and Sam really wants to drag Dean back to the hotel and ravish Dean–or get ravished, whatever.
The three people that were killed have one thing in common that they’ve been able to figure out: they all spent a lot of time in this bar. Sam’s beyond shocked that his fake ID worked, but the bar is seedy enough that the bartender really doesn’t care about who's legal, he just wants to do his job, get paid, and get home. He’s also really talkative, so Sam and Dean know the name of three others who are regulars at the bar. One is due to arrive anytime, according to Chatty McBartender, and the two beers Sam had drank has left him feeling floaty and flirty, so a few whispered suggestions in Dean’s ear later, they landed here, with Dean against the wall and Sam plastered against him.
“We need to go, she’ll be here by now,” Dean says. He works a hand under Sam’s shirt, his fingers flexing against Sam’s back. Sam’s dick is pressing against his jeans and he’s just thinking about dragging Dean into the one bathroom stall, when the door is pushed open.
Dean shoves him away and for a second Sam’s unsteady on his feet, swaying a bit as the door is pushed the rest of the way open and someone steps inside.
“Dean?”
Sam’s looking at Dean, so the familiar voice comes to a complete shock. He turns to see Dad standing there, looking from Dean to Sam and then back again.
Sam’s not sure what he looks like, but Dean looks just like someone who has just been making out. His clothes are rumpled, his cheeks are flushed. He looks absolutely sinful.
“I saw your car outside,” Dad says, frowning. Sam doesn’t like the look in his eye or his tone.
“Yeah, yeah, we uh - Sam and I, we’re on a hunt.” Dean goes into best-son mode, standing straight, almost at attention, focusing all his attention on Dad. “We got some intel about the people who were killed, came in here to talk about it, make a plan.”
“Yeah, had a voicemail about some mysterious deaths so I came to check it out,” Dad says. He looks back at Sam, stares at him for a moment too long and Sam’s suddenly worried he has a hickey or something, then Dad turns his attention back to Dean. “Got any idea what it is?”
Dean goes into a detailed explanation of what they’d found out so far. According to the bartender, the three people that died, the woman that shows up promptly at eight every night, and two others were involved in some kind of fight a week ago Friday. The bartender doesn’t know what it was about, but the fight got loud enough the bouncer got involved. Dean’s hoping that they can get some information from the woman, Betty something-or-other, the bartender didn’t know her last name, when she arrives.
Dad just nods after Dean stops speaking. He turns and studies Sam again.
“You been drinking?” Dad asks Sam.
Sam shrugs in reply.
“Why don’t you go back to wherever you two are staying,” Dad says to him. “You’re too young to be in here, don’t want the cops to get involved.”
Nobody is going to be calling the cops on Sam, and all three know it. But it’s a clear dismissal. Sam looks at Dean, waiting for Dean to say something, but Dean doesn’t, and really, it’s just so damn typical of them both.
Sam wants to argue, but there’s a weird energy in the air and Dean looks tense. Fuck it. Sam stomps past Dad, past Dean and grabs the beer he left on their table on his way out the door.
Three hours later Dean comes back to the hotel.
“Start packing,” he says to Sam. “It was a witch, Dad’s taking care of her.”
“Betty?” Sam asks.
Dean nods, doesn’t even look at Sam really, just starts shoving things in the duffel bag.
It feels weird that Dean finished a hunt without him. Sam is left feeling like the odd man out, the same way he felt all his life before this summer. Dad and Dean with their memories of Mom, Dad and Dean going on hunts together, leaving Sam behind to do the research. Dad and Dean sharing beers while they watched some shitty movie on television.
“Well, we don’t have another hunt lined up,” Sam says. He steps behind Dean, pressing his body against him. “We could stay the night, finish what we started.”
Dean moves away from Sam, his shoulders hunched and tense, and that hurts more than Sam being pushed out of the hunt.
“What?” Sam asks.
“It’s wrong, what we’ve been doing,” Dean says, not looking at Sam in the eye. “We’ve been pretending that it’s not, but it’s wrong, Sam.”
“Dad say something?” Sam asks.
Dean shakes his head. “This isn’t about Dad, this is about me and you and us doing things we shouldn’t be doing.”
“Bullshit,” Sam says hotly. “You were just fine with what we were doing until Dad showed up. He almost caught us, and you got spooked. Dean, we just have to be more careful, that’s all.”
Dean shakes his head again, shoulders his duffel bag. “We’re not doing this anymore, Sam. We never should have started it, but I’m ending it. I’ll be waiting in the car.” And he walks out the door, leaving Sam standing in the middle of the room, alone and struggling to figure out what just happened.
Bobby
He’s just sitting down to dinner when his private phone rings. Fork in his hand, halfway to his mouth, Bobby thinks about ignoring it. He’s been fielding phone calls from hunters all day and he’s entitled to have fifteen freaking minutes to himself to eat his dinner and drink a beer or two.
Bobby sighs, puts down the fork, and goes to his study to answer the phone. “This better be important.”
“It’s about the boys.”
John. Bobby’s been trying to reach him for weeks now, and John’s been ignoring his calls. A part of Bobby wants to hang up the phone and go back to dinner, let John stew in his own juices for a while. But if the boys are in trouble -
“What about them?” Bobby asks.
“I just ran into them on a hunt. They seemed - I walked into a bathroom, and they were there. Dean was acting strange, like he got caught doing something wrong, and they had been - fuck, I don’t know. I know you spent some time with them recently, I was just wondering - did they seem off to you at all? Like maybe something’s going on with them?”
“I don’t know, John. They’re your boys.” Bobby can’t help needling the man just a little. “Seems like if something was going on, you’d be the one to know about it. Maybe if you were around more…”
“Dean’s grown, and Sam’s all but. They don’t need a damn babysitter, and I’ve got - you know what I’ve got going on. It’s just- maybe they’re spending too much time together. Maybe I should send Dean on some solo hunts or something. I’m just worried about them.”
“John took time out of his busy schedule to worry about his boys. Hold on a second, got to mark this on my calendar. A red letter day.” Bobby’s on thin ice, he knows it, but god damn John for acting worried now.
“Fuck you. I’m sorry I called. I won’t make that mistake again, I promise you,” John snaps back.
“Hold on - just wait a minute,” Bobby says quickly.
Something was going on with the boys, John was right about that. Something that Bobby didn’t want to define, even though he had a suspicion he knew what it was. He had a suspicion that John knew what it was too.
Those boys had been through so much.
Bobby had seen a lot of things in his life, especially since Karen died. Seen things that grown men should never be exposed to, much less kids. He drank to cope, drank too much, he was well aware and had no intention of stopping, thank you very much. He wasn’t about to make judgments on how anyone else coped.
“Just - maybe spend some time with them. Do something as a family that ain’t hunting. And if you can’t give up your obsession enough to do that - then maybe let ‘em be. They’re good boys, they’ll figure it out. Dean’s got Sam’s back, and though he don’t get enough credit for it Sam’s got Dean’s back too.” He pauses, trying to find a way to get through to the man, something that could break through his obsession. “After all, if it’s got Sam hunting voluntarily, how bad can it be.”
“Yeah, okay. I’m chasing down a lead on the west coast but maybe after that - I’ll think about it.”
The phone goes dead.
“You’re welcome,” Bobby says to the dial tone, then puts down the phone and heads back to the kitchen. This time he doesn’t even pick up the fork before his phone rings again.
“Balls!”
6/20/99
r/darksideoftheroom
RockingRobin: got a hit on our boys
RockingRobin: maybe
RockingRobin: a friend of a friend in Indiana
RockingRobin: no service, left the room a mess, black car–the usual.
RockingRobin: but she said both beds were used :(
Charmed: oh damn. you think something happened with our boys?
MexicanMama: I hope not…they seemed so happy together when we saw them.
Charmed: Robin, why don’t you invite your friend to join us?
July 2nd
Dean
The last few days have been the worst fucking days of Dean’s life, and considering some of the shit he’s been through, that’s saying something.
And the reason his life sucks right now is the pain and misery and hurt radiating off the boy curled up in the bed next to his, his back to Dean.
Dad walking in on them while Dean had been practically humping Sam’s leg was - Dean can’t breathe when he thinks about it. He doesn’t think Dad saw anything, years of training had paid off in that moment and Dean had reacted fast, pushing Sam away. Pushing Sam away - that’s what he should have done that first day, the first time they kissed. He’s the freaking adult here, the one responsible for Sam. It would have hurt less if he had done it then. If he had done it before he found out how good Sam felt and tasted. Before he knew that Sam was so fucking hot in bed, that sex with Sam - even if they haven’t gone all the way yet - was so much fucking hotter than sex with anyone else.
Before he realized that he loved Sam deeply and passionately, in ways no one should ever love their brother.
Sam, being Sam, refused to listen to reason. Sam had been relentless since then - in turns coaxing, flirty, angry, hurt. He used those damn eyes of his like a weapon, turning them full force on Dean and it had taken everything in Dean not to grab Sam and hold him close and kiss him until neither one of them could think straight.
But every time Dean closes his eyes, he sees Dad standing there. Dad looking at him with suspicion in his eyes, and maybe worry, and maybe Dad doesn’t know, he didn’t say anything, even after he sent Sam back to the hotel. But maybe Dad does know, probably at least suspects something, and fuck, disappointing that man is something Dean’s not sure he can live with.
Sam flops back around, looks at Dean with sad eyes and Dean’s heart hurts - like physically hurts like something sharp has sliced right through it.
“Can we at least snuggle?” Sam asks. “Nothing else, I swear. No kissing or anything if you don’t want to. But I haven’t been able to sleep. I just miss - please, Dean.”
There’s something parents used to say on those family television shows that Sam used to like so much. Dean always thought it was bullshit, something people say just to justify their actions.
This is going to hurt me worse than it hurts you.
Dean moves in the bed, turns his head away from Sam. “There’s not enough room.”
Then he closes his eyes and tries to ignore the feeling that he's breaking Sam’s heart along with his own.
They can get past this. They will - because there is no other choice. They have to find a way to just be brothers again.
July 3rd
r/darksideoftheroom
MexicanMama: Happy Fourth, ladies
MexicanMama: or close enough
CarouselHorses: Hey Mama! Happy Fourth
Charmed: Any plans for the big weekend, girls?
MexicanMama: not around here. But Carri is heading over to San Antonio to help out a friend, enjoy the fireworks and the riverwalk.
Charmed: sounds like fun!
CarouselHorses: I’ve heard the Riverwalk is beautiful. And it will probably do her some good to get away and relax–what’s she helping her with?
MexicanMama: It’s a boy, thank goodness. She’s finally getting over that kid and his brother after he broke her heart. He works in the kitchen and she’s working housekeeping.
MexicanMama: She’s having a good time and making good money, too.
Fourth of July
Sam
They’ve been driving aimlessly around. Dean’s just picking a direction at random and driving until he can’t keep his eyes open anymore. At least that’s what it feels like, Sam doesn’t know for sure because he’s not talking to Dean right now.
Damn Dad, if he hadn't barged in, if he hadn't spooked Dean…
They are in Austin, Texas when Dean pulls into the parking lot of another seedy motel after driving fifteen hours straight. Sam doesn't look up from the book he's been pretending to read as Dean sighs, gets out of the car, and heads to the motel’s lobby.
Sam’s legs are cramped and he gets out of the car as soon as Dean disappears, walking around the parking lot in an attempt to un-cramp his legs.
“Damn, you're a tall one.”
Sam turns around to see a young man leaning against Dean’s car, looking at Sam. Sam smiles, thinking about how pissed Dean is going to be about his car being touched.
“Pretty too, if you don’t mind me saying.”
Sam feels the blush creep up his cheeks. The guy is objectively good looking. He looks like he might be around eighteen, with sandy blonde hair and blue eyes.
“Name’s Daniel,” the guy says, holding out his hand. Sam steps up to shake it. Daniel is looking Sam over, and not being subtle at all about it.
“I could help you with that,” Daniel says, pointing at Sam’ s legs.
“Huh?”
“Stretching your legs, and you got a lot of leg there to stretch. Could take you around, show you some of the sights. Have you ever been to Austin before?”
Sam shakes his head, an idea tickling the back of his mind.
“Austin is about the only town in Texas two gay boys can walk hand in hand and not get the crap beat out of them.”
“What makes you think I’m gay?” Sam asks, eyebrows raising.
Daniel shrugs. “Just a feeling, but if you aren’t, or just not interested, the offer to show you around stands. My Mama is the head housekeeper here and she’s doing inventory, she’ll be a while. Austin is a pretty cool city, I’d hate for all you see of it is this motel.”
Sam’s about to say ‘thanks, but no thanks’ when Dean walks up to them. He looks from Daniel to Sam and back to Daniel, scowling. “Something I can help you with?”
“Just asking your friend here out,” Daniel says, not the least fazed by Dean’s glare.
“Well, get your ass off my car and go back to wherever you came from, Sam’s not interested.”
And suddenly, Sam, who was about to say no, is very interested in going on a walk with Daniel. Because he knows Dean, and Dean’s not pissed about the car. Dean’s pissed that Daniel has been flirting with Sam. He’s jealous.
Dean is jealous, and Sam feels happier than he has felt for days.
“Actually, I’m very interested in that walk,” Sam says to Daniel. “Dean, you don’t mind taking care of our things, do you?”
“Oh, now you can talk to me? After two days of the silent treatment? And no, you are not going anywhere with - “
“Sorry about Dean. You know how brothers can get,” Sam says to Daniel. He grabs Daniel’s hand, smiles at Dean. “Don’t wait up, I’m not sure how long we will be.”
His phone begins ringing before they even reach the sidewalk. Sam just shuts it off. Let Dean stew for a while. Let Dean see that other people find Sam interesting and attractive. It’s a trick as old as time, the one that Sam is playing on Dean, but it has stood the test of time because it’s pretty damn effective. And if Sam knows his brother, and he does, Dean is not going to like another man paying attention to Sam, even if he’s keeping Sam at arm’s length.
Daniel is kind of boring, but Austin is a pretty cool city, and Sam really needed the walk after being cooped up in the car for so long. When they get back to the motel just around dinner time, Daniel offers to take Sam to San Antonio the next day. Sam says no but thanks Daniel for a nice evening.
“Well, if you change your mind - “ Daniel takes Sam’s hand, uses a pen to write down his number.
Sam sees movement from the window and steps closer to Daniel, squeezing Daniel’s hand one more time and thanking him again with a flirtatious smile. Sam’s not surprised at all when the door opens before Sam can even reach for the door handle.
“What the fuck was that about?” Dean growls.
“The fuck that was about is that Daniel is a nice guy. He likes me, and he’s pretty cute, don’t you think?” Sam can practically see the steam coming off Dean. “I mean, I’d rather have you, obviously, but you’ve made it perfectly clear that you’re off-limits, and I’m young so - why not date a cute guy?”
“He could be a serial killer, Sam!” Dean not quite yells.
“Lucky for me I have a thing for serial killers then,” Sam replies, winking at Dean. He sits down at the edge of the bed, stretches. “It’s still kind of early, but I think I might call it a night. Daniel wants to take me to San Antonio tomorrow. I’ve always wanted to see The Alamo and he wants to take me to someplace called the Riverwalk.”
“You can’t go to bed yet. It’s the fourth of July.” Dean frowns, clearly unhappy about this turn of events. “There’s going to be fireworks, Sam. We always watch the fireworks together.”
“Well, you have fun with that,” Sam replies. He looks at the number on his hand, holds it up to Dean with a saccharine sweet smile. “Do you have a pen and paper? I’m afraid I’ll wash this off when I take my shower.”
Dean glares at Sam. Sam looks up at Dean and just keeps smiling. Dean’s going to break, Sam can feel it in his bones.
Then Dean grabs his duffel bag and starts cramming in the few items he had taken out. “Grab your things.”
“What?” Sam asks. This isn’t going in the direction he thought it was.
“Grab your things. If you want to go to San Antono, I’m the one that’s going to take you there, not some Don Juan wannabe.”
“But Dean, I thought you wanted us to move on,” Sam protests. “That’s what I’m trying to do. Why are you upset about this?”
“Don’t play coy, it’s not a good look on you. Get your ass in the car,” Dean replies. And hell, Sam really should tell Dean where to shove it, but he’s kinda turned on by the growl in Dean’s voice.
Dean
Sam’s tense in the seat beside him, sending him both hopeful and worried looks. Dean’s tense too, all coiled up inside, just thinking about that boy Sam was with – the hungry look in that boy’s eyes when he looked at Sam –
Dean sees a truck pulling a boat pull out of a side road and turns into the road. The road goes from paved to gravel.
“Where the hell are we going?” Sam asks.
Dean doesn’t answer, because he’s not sure. He just knows he has to get out of this car, get his hands on Sam, make sure Sam is still his.
And then the trees that line both sides of the road like silent sentinels clear, and on the left of them is a lake. There is nothing or no one else around, so it’s perfect for what Dean needs. He pulls Baby close to it.
“I thought you were taking me to San Antonio,” Sam says. “What are we doing here?”
Dean gets out of the car and walks over to Sam’s side of the car, pulling open the door. He can’t wait any longer. He’s got to hold Sam; he’s got to make this right. He grabs Sam and pulls him out of the car and then they’re kissing - Dean’s lips and tongue tangling with Sam’s, his body pressing Sam against the car. “That’s why,” Dean says when they finally break the kiss because oxygen is good.
Sam pulls away from Dean slightly, looking him in the eyes. “Is this your way of saying you want me back? Because I am going to need you to actually say it, Dean.” Sam’s voice wobbles a little, like a knife to Dean’s heart. “I need you to make a commitment, promise me you won’t push me away again. You owe me that much.”
“I am sorry, Sam. So damn sorry, you have no idea how much. I’ill make this up to you, I swear it,” Dean promises. He’s never meant anything more.
Behind them, in the distance, bursts of colors light up the sky.
“Well, if you want to make it up to me, you can start by doing some major groveling,” Sam says. He pulls Dean closer to him, kissing Dean softly, and everything that has been wrong in Dean’s world is suddenly right again.
“Anything you want, baby brother,” Dean tells him fervently. “I’ll get down on my knees for you, I’ill wait on you hand and foot, I’ll take you anywhere you want to go. I’ll even let you drive Baby.”
“Wow, you really must be sorry,” Sam says, smiling. “I might take you up on driving the car, I’ve always wanted to.” Sam puts his finger under Dean’s chin, tipping Dean’s face up. “Are you sure about this, Dean? Please be sure. I can’t go through the last few days again.”
Dean leans his forehead against Sam’s. He thinks about Dad, about Dad finding out, but at that moment he can’t bring himself to care. Let the world find out, he's not risking losing Sam again. “Neither can I. God help me, Sam, you’re all I want. And I know it’s wrong but I can’t let you go.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Sam says, kissing Dean again.
More bursts of light over the lake and Dean spares just a glance at the fireworks before he turns his attention back to the most beautiful thing in his world. They kiss again, going from soft and sweet to hot and heavy, clutching each other tightly, hands roaming everywhere.
“Fuck, Sam, I just need to – “ Dean says, running a hand down the curve in Sam’s back.
“Fuck me, Dean,” Sam says. “I’m ready, or let me fuck you, but just – I need you, Dean. I need this so much.”
A shiver goes through Dean’s whole body at the words. He’s never wanted anything more.
“Not here,” he says to Sam. “Let’s go to San Antonio like we planned and get a room. If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it right, with a bed and everything.”
“I like the sound of that,” Sam agrees. “But just - hold me for a few more minutes, okay?”
The sky lights up again. Dean leans into Sam, rubbing Sam’s hipbone. He’s going to take Sam somewhere nice. Sam deserves that. “I’ll hold you as long as you want,” Dean promises Sam. “And I swear this time I’m not going to let you go.”
Sam
Dean doesn’t say much on the way to San Antonio, just taps his fingers on the steering wheel and spends more time looking sideways at Sam than he does the road. It’s not a long drive, but Dean spends some time driving around San Antonio until he parks in front of a hotel that is far nicer than any Sam’s ever stayed in before.
“We can’t afford this place,” Sam protests faintly.
“Maybe not,” Dean replies. He reaches past Sam, opens the glovebox and pulls out several credit cards before picking one out. “But Jeremiah F Grayston can.”
If the nice hotel wasn’t shocking enough, Dean books them the Honeymoon Suite and holds Sam’s hand all the way up the elevator. Sam’s so happy that he just wants to shout to the world that this glorious man is his.
The room has an honest-to-goodness balcony with a beautiful view of the city. “I think we’re going to be able to see the fireworks after all,” Sam says to Dean when Dean joins him on the balcony.
Dean presses against Sam’s back, his fingers wandering over Sam’s shirt. He works the buttons open slowly, his mouth hot on Sam’s throat as the material slides to the floor almost unnoticed.
“Dean–”
“Shh…” Sam’s head falls to the side as Dean sucks a mark over his pulse, his hands slowly trailing slowly over Sam’s torso to tease at his nipples. “I think I’d rather make our own fireworks.”
“You’re so corny.” Sam turns around and kisses Dean and everything is heat and want and the hot throb of need between his legs. His brother is hot, soft skin and lips, abs that Sam can’t wait to get his lips on. And his ass. Sam’s mouth waters remembering the things he’d read, the videos he’d watched.
“What do you want, Sam?” Dean whispers, pulling him back to the moment. His brother is here and waiting, and Sam is going to do every single thing Dean will let him.
“I want what I’ve always wanted, everything,” Sam tells him honestly. “Every part of you, Dean, I want it all.”
Dean starts unbuckling Sam’s belt and Sam lets him. Leans against back the rail of the balcony, his elbows on the hot metal as Dean kneels before him, bites at his hipbone and kisses away the sting. There’s a loud series of pops and the sky above his head lights up in sparks of red, blue, white. Dean’s hands are everywhere, on Sam’s hips, on his stomach, tugging at his boxers, and Sam’s burning up, about to burst. He grabs Dean’s hands, presses them against the bulge in the open vee of his jeans. “I want to make love, Dean. I’m ready, I’m more than ready. I need this, I need you.”
More loud pops and the sky lights up again, The colors dance against Dean’s pale skin, making him even more beautiful. “We don’t have to, Sam. I won’t change my mind about this tomorrow.”
“You’d better not,” Sam says seriously. “Because whatever you are imagining I would do to you if you turn me away again, I promise it will be a thousand times worse.”
“Noted,” Dean says with a little laugh. He leans over, kisses Sam, his hand pressed against Sam’s cock. “I’m not going to argue about this, not when I want it so damn much too.”
They are kissing again, and Sam feels unbalanced but he’s okay with that because Dean is holding him up, Dean is in his arms where he belongs.
“Bed,” Sam says between kisses. “Because my first time isn’t going to be over the railing of a balcony.”
Dean looks up at him, eyes twinkling. “Are you sure? It could be a lot of fun.” He licks over the bruise he left on Sam’s throat, bites down gently to feel Sam shiver against him. “Right out here in the open, anyone could see that you’re mine.”
A particularly loud boom overhead. Hundreds of sparks across the sky forming objects - the flag, the stars and stripes, a cascade of stars. Sam and Dean watch as the shapes fall away.
“We can leave the terrace window open, we can probably see the fireworks from the bed,” Sam suggests.
“Oh, you’ll see fireworks alright,” Dean says, smirking. “So damn hot, Sammy. I can’t wait to get you naked, spread out on the bed.”
Somehow, with their bodies and their lips tangled, they make their way inside to the bed. Sam pulls them down, limbs still entangled, with Dean’s shirt half off and Sam trying to pull his jeans down without letting go of any part of Dean.
“Did you bring anything?” Dean asks, breathless.
“Yeah, in the duffel bag,” Sam replies. He’s been carrying around lube and condoms for weeks now, impatiently waiting for this moment.
Dean pushes himself up reluctantly and Sam wraps his arms around him, pulling him closer. There are more pops and whistles outside, but neither of them are paying the fireworks any attention now. The only thing that exists in the world is the two of them.
“You’re going to have to let me go if you want to take this further,” Dean whispers, but he doesn’t stop kissing Sam’s neck, his hands still tangled in Sam’s hair.
Sam arches underneath him, kissing Dean one more time before letting him go.
“Clothes off,” Dean says and yeah, that’s a great idea. Dean undresses quickly, tossing his clothes carelessly aside as Sam watches hungrily, the play of light over his skin making Sam want to kiss every inch, trace the patterns with his tongue and teeth and lips. He’s so distracted that Dean laughs when he stands back up, lube in one hand and condoms in the other.
“You gonna get undressed too? Because this is gonna be a lot harder with you wearing clothes,” Dean teases, joining Sam on the bed.
Oh yeah, clothes. Sam lifts his hips and pushes his jeans down and off, kicking them to the side so that they are finally both naked and it’s finally here - what Sam has been fantasizing about for years. He tugs Dean down on top of him, Dean’s hands landing on either side of his head and Sam holds him there, just looking. Just feeling, because they’ve never been here before, not with intent. Dean smiles down at him softly, as caught up in the moment as Sam is, leaning down to kiss him gently until they can’t anymore, until the fire inside them both burns the gentleness away and leaves nothing but desperation in its wake.
“What do you want, Sammy?” Dean asks again, lifting his head to look down at Sam. His voice is ragged, as frayed and needy as Sam feels. He’s got his leg between Sam’s thighs, one hand wrapped around them both, eyes blown so wide Sam can see the fireworks outside dancing against the blackness. “Because I know what I want, but if you don’t–”
Sam’s heart skips a beat when Dean presses the lube in Sam’s hand.
“Are you sure?” Sam asks, his breath stuttering in his chest. His hands are on Dean’s ass of their own accord, his finger sliding down to rub over Dean’s hole. He wants this, but he wants Dean to be happy just as much. “It can be me. You’ve had more experience, maybe for our first time we should - “
Dean goes still, letting Sam explore, but Sam can feel his heart racing. “I’ve never been with a guy,” Dean says honestly. “Never really wanted to, other than you.” He bites his lip and deliberately pushes back against Sam’s fingers with a small sound of pleasure. “Sides I know you Sam, I know you’ve done your research.”
“I’ve been reading,” Sam admits, a little breathless. “I wanted to be ready, anyway that we chose to - I’m ready for whatever happens.”
“Only my brother would read about gay sex instead of just watching porn,” Dean teases, and Sam considers telling him about the videos he watched, just to see the jealousy in his eyes. But Dean derails that train of thought when he rolls off Sam to lie on his stomach, turning his head to meet Sam’s eyes. “I trust you, Sam.”
******
Dean
It’s not a hard choice to make. Dean rolls off of Sam–okay, that part is hard, but necessary if they’re going to get to the really good stuff–to lie on his stomach. “I trust you, Sam,” he says quietly, and the way Sam’s throat works and his eyes darken just confirms that this is what they both want.
Then Sam surprises him.
“Then turn over,” Sam says, his voice only shaking a little. “I want to see you. Want you to see me.”
Dean feels himself flush. He’s not sure he’s ready for that, for Sam to see how much he wants this, but Sam’s hand is on his shoulder, gently urging him over.
“I want to make sure I don’t hurt you,” Sam tells him, reaching across him to grab the lube off the nightstand. His eyes linger on the condoms. “And I don’t want to use a condom, unless you really do.”
That’s like a dash of cold water. “No glove, no love, Sammy,” Dean says firmly. “I know I taught you better than that.”
“It’s not like I can get you pregnant, Dean,” Sam says with fond exasperation, opening the bottle. Dean can’t take his eyes off the gleam of liquid spilling over his fingers, the way they shine as Sam rubs them together to warm it.
“No, but I–I’ve been with a lot of girls,” Dean points out, his voice cracking annoyingly as Sam pushes his leg up. He feels exposed like this, broken open even though Sam has barely touched him. Sam looks beautiful above him, his skin glowing with a warm sheen of sweat, his cock hard and red where it’s curved against his stomach. “We can’t take the risk.”
“You had my blood all over you last week,” Sam says reasonably, but there’s nothing reasonable about the flash of heat that runs up Dean’s spine when his hand dips between Dean’s legs. His eyes never leave Dean’s face as he rubs two fingers over Dean’s hole, and Dean’s never felt anything like it, swears he can feel the whorls of Sam’s fingerprints against the sensitive skin. He gasps, his legs falling open without his permission, and Sam smiles with just a hint of triumph. “And your blood was all over me the week before that. We’ve given each other blowjobs, and I know you get tested.”
Sam pushes on the last word, his finger sliding into Dean’s body smooth as silk. Every objection Dean has dies on his tongue as Sam pushes deeper, inside Dean, his bare skin rubbing all over Dean’s insides, and he wants more. He wants it all, nothing between them. His hands are on Sam’s biceps, squeezing tight, and Sam’s waiting–patiently, but Dean doesn’t have to be a mindreader to know it’s killing him to do so.
“Yeah, Sammy,” he says hoarsely. “Yeah, just you and me. Nothing else.”
Sam’s face lights up as he leans forward for a kiss. “Thank you, Dean,” he murmurs, and Dean loses himself to the feeling of Sam’s mouth on his, Sam’s fingers moving inside him, Sam’s scent surrounding him, Sam’s legs tangled with his. Sam pushes in a second finger and draws back to watch Dean’s face intently as his fingers move inside Dean’s ass. It’s like he’s looking for something, and it feels weird to have something moving around inside him like this. It’s still good, this feeling of fullness and knowing that it’s Sam–
“Holy shit, Sam,” Dean gasps, his hips bucking against Sam’s weight. His nerves are singing with shaky, shocky pleasure that hasn’t even faded away before Sam does it again. “Sam–what–”
“That’s your prostate,” Sam tells him, and yeah, Dean can forgive him for being so smug if he just does that again. There’s a dull ache in his ass now, a little burn that tells him Sam must have three fingers inside him now, and it’s almost too much–Sam inside him, pressing and rubbing on that spot, kissing him like he needs Dean to survive.
“Sam. Sammy. Not gonna last–” Dean can feel his orgasm building inside him, knows he’s close, and he doesn’t want to come until Sam is inside him.
“I’ve got you,” Sam says soothingly, and Dean realizes he’s shaking, his body clenched tight around Sam’s fingers as he’s easing them out. He whines a little at the sense of loss, that sudden loss of connection, and he doesn’t even care that Sam’s gonna tease him for this later, he just needs. Needs Sam back inside him, needs Sam filling him up and surrounding him–
“Can’t believe I almost gave this up, gave you up,” Dean whispers as Sam slots himself between Dean’s legs. He lets Sam pull his legs up, gets the idea and wraps them around Sam’s waist and then Sam’s there, the head of his cock nudging at Dean’s hole, slick and hot and huge as he pushes.
“So perfect, Dean, God–” Sam’s as wrecked by this as he is, eyes huge and dark as he starts to work his hips. It hurts a little–Sam’s cock is bigger than his fingers, a lot bigger, but it feels good too, stretching him wide. “You feel so good, Dean, made for me, all mine–”
Sam’s babbling just a bit, and Dean gets it, he might be too if Sam weren’t pushing all the air out of his body with every thrust, finding that sweet spot inside him every time. Dean can’t tell if he’s seeing stars or if it’s just the fireworks outside the window reflected in Sam’s eyes, but he knows he’s not going to last, not going to last–
“Come for me, Dean, come on–” Sam’s voice breaks on the last word, breathless and needy, and that–Sam begging, Sam needing him–that’s what sends him over the edge. Sam feels huge inside him as his whole body clenches tight, every sensation magnified beyond anything he’s ever felt before, every nerve alight with pleasure. He hears Sam cry out, voice ragged and distant even though he’s right there, Dean’s arms around him and holding as he shakes apart. Warm wetness scalds his insides as Sam grinds into him, and it should feel weird and dirty but all Dean can think about is Sam leaving part of himself inside Dean, so deep Dean might never get him out. Aftershocks shudder through him at the thought, only slightly less intense, and Sam moans above him, caught up in Dean’s pleasure.
Neither of them move after that, hearts and lungs slowing and syncing as they drift together. Sam should be getting heavy but he’s not, and Dean’s arms tighten around him involuntarily when he tries to move. He doesn’t want this to end, wants to keep Sam here, in his arms and in his body, for as long as he can. Sam laughs a little, nuzzling into the soft, sweaty skin behind his ear.
“I don’t want to move either,” he whispers. “But if I don’t we’re going to stick together, and I can promise you neither of us want that.”
Dean makes a face at the thought, though secretly the idea of being stuck to Sam maybe isn’t as gross as it should be. Sam laughs again and settles down more comfortably against his chest.
“I promise you, it is totally gross,” he says, teasing, and Dean realizes he must have said that out loud. “But I guess I’m willing to risk it if you are.”
“Just a few more minutes,” Dean says, stroking his hair. He’s being a sap and Sam is going to tease him forever, but right now he just doesn’t care. “And then maybe the rest of my life.”